Take a Bullet
by itsourinsidejoke
Summary: Being a cop, Kate Beckett thought she'd take a bullet. But perhaps retirement in the Hamptons with Rick Castle was the better ending after all. Oneshot. Dedicated to Juliette.


**I don't own Castle.**

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><p><strong>Title<strong>: Take a Bullet

**Rating**: T

**Description**: Being a cop, Kate Beckett thought she'd take a bullet. But perhaps retirement in the Hamptons with Rick Castle was the better ending after all. Oneshot. Dedicated to Juliette.

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><p>Being a cop, Kate Beckett always thought she would take a bullet.<p>

She never thought that she'd almost die locked in a freezer. She never thought that she might have lost a duel with a fixated serial killer, murdering people in the name of her alter ego. She never thought she would believe in fate and destiny. She never thought she would have solved her mother's murder. She never thought she would be there to witness the defusing of a dirty bomb (no matter how unorthodox it may have been). She never thought she would fall in love with her partner (no matter how unorthodox _he_ was).

"Speech, speech! Captain Beckett, give us a speech!" the crowd demanded, tapping their glasses with the edges of their forks, much like a few of them had at her wedding so many years ago. Only this time it was a retirement party and there was not any dancing, bouquet tossing, or garter-removing.

Kate Beckett-Castle felt a blush makes its way up her neck to her cheeks and squeezed her husband's hand for reassurance. They shared a small smile before he nudged her to stand up and say a few words. She compiled and rose to her feet, pressing off of her knees. The people sitting around her table grinned at her – her children, Alexis, Nate, and Sophie with their respective spouses were the loudest at hollering. Grandchildren circled her feet – three of the six – playing tag, not paying the ceremony. The other three grandchildren – now 22, 20, and 19 – were seated next to their mother, Alexis, grinning and staring at their grandmother in awe.

She was grateful no one could see her foot tapping in anticipation.

She didn't mind speaking in front of crowds. She had no problem when it was all of her detectives, lined up, awaiting orders. However, in this atmosphere – when it wasn't a murder in the center of attention, but _her_ – she was not the least bit comfortable.

She didn't like the spotlight.

That was why she and Rick Castle got along so well – he was worshipped in the spotlight and he took it with stride. She, on the other hand, preferred behind-the-scenes work. She'd rather be the muse, the detective, the acknowledgement than the star, the author, the name on the hardcover.

But _her_ people had thrown this party in her honor. Thirty-five years on the Force and fifteen years as captain had made her great trainees, spectacular officers, stunning detectives and extraordinary friends.

She held up her champagne glass and smiled brilliantly; the lines around her eyes deepening with age, laughter, and love. "First of all," she started. "I would like to thank all of you for putting this together. It's been such an honor serving this city with you. And I was blessed as captain to raise such a fine bunch of cops like you all." Laughter rippled through the crowd. She felt Rick's fingers around her free hand, squeezing encouragement into her.

Kate looked out into the crowd.

Most of the tables were stocked with about thirty Uniforms and her four teams of detectives: the Patterson, Cannell, King, and Connelly groups as Rick always called them. Kate had trained all of those detectives – sixteen of them. They were like her children and she loved them despite their faults, their quick tempers, their pasts. That made them human. That made them _damn good_ at their jobs. And it made them _real_.

The table to the right of hers held Kevin Ryan, Jenny O'Malley-Ryan, and their five grown children between the ages of 30 and 21. They also had quite a number of grandchildren running around the room, playing Cops and Robbers. The table to the left was Lanie Parish-Michael's table – complete with her husband, Jeremy, and their daughter, Paige. There was a lone chair next to her for the late Detective Javier Esposito; Lanie had insisted that even though it had been almost ten years since Javi's death, he deserved a place among them.

And she was right.

Kate suddenly felt her throat clog. Words didn't want to come out and she chocked, staring at Javi's chair. They had lost him to a dangerous drug bust that was connected to the murder of a fourteen year old girl, Summer Reynolds. Esposito did everything he could to solve that murder – he hated when kids died, even though he hadn't had any himself. Every year around his death, Kate had nightmares. She would remember the blood staining her hands as she tried to revive him. She could hear Ryan crying out, screaming for his partner to come back. The other detectives were slapping cuffs on suspects, slamming them into walls when they didn't cooperate, and taking them away.

They got the guy.

_But it wasn't enough._

They had taken Javier Esposito.

Another squeeze and she glanced down. Her husband's crystal blue eyes – that hadn't changed a bit since the day she met him – were staring at the chair as well, thinking of that day he received the call that one of his best friends was dead.

"Being a cop," she went on, swallowing when she felt tears. "Being a cop isn't easy. The job has the worst hours, the worst timing, and the worst wake-up calls." There was a morbid chuckle throughout the crowd. She glanced to the big windows, giving the room an orange feel in the sunset. The room was normally full of desks but they had been shoved up against walls to make room for fold-up tables, cheery tablecloths, and paper plates.

She looked at the Uniforms and smiled at them.

"But we have the bravest Uniforms for digging through the smelliest trashcans, the dirtiest subway stations, and the most putrid of New York City's apartments." They laughed, raising their glasses – some of them downing them – and calling out phrases like, "You got that right!" or "Don't remind us!"

She looked at the Patterson group. "We have the best white board work in the city." The group of four smiled widely at her – this particular set of detectives relied heavily on their white boards, even though most groups preferred the smart boards that came with new technology and generous donations.

To the Cannell group, she announced, "We have the best pranksters." Two of her most mischievous detectives, Luke Robinson and Jimmy Harris – R2D2 and C3PO as everyone called them because of their unquestionable "bromance" – grinned at her. She winked.

"We have the _best_ theories," she said to the King group, who had a particular detective that reminded her of Castle with his crazy theories, off-the-wall ideas, and CIA conspiracies. The other three in the group slugged their Castle Jr. in the shoulder, teasing like they always did.

Finally, to the Connelly group, she commented, "We make the most extraordinary friends."

The room fell silent. For a long moment, Kate shifted her eyes between her four groups of detectives, her Uniforms, her friends, and her family. Some of them were crying – she could even see a few men wipe their tears. She felt her own eyes well up with emotion. She had learned a long time ago to show her emotions when she needed to. Crying didn't make a person weak – it took much more courage to cry than it did to push the thoughts away.

She wiped at her eye, smiling.

"And, finally," she whispered just loud enough so everyone could hear, "we have the best coffee in the Force thanks to my lovely husband." The silence was broken – laughter was full force and whooping was involved. She glanced down at Rick, who gave her hand another squeeze he smiled up at her, his eyes only showing love and adoration. He had never given her any other look since the walls came down; even in the midst of a screaming match, she didn't see anything else.

God, she loved that man.

She looked back around the Precinct, where she would command for just a couple hours more. This place had been her home – her kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, gym, everything. There had been so many dinners consumed, so many showers taken, so many nights slept on hard couches, so many hits thrown at punching bags upstairs.

But, it was time to move on to a different life.

"Thank you," she finished. "Thank you for being my team and for having my back. I am honored to have been able to serve you for as long as I did."

She sat down when the applause erupted. Before anyone had the chance to talk to her, Rick pressed his mouth against her ear and he whispered, "Always."

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><p>Two hours later, the last of the guests left the Precinct.<p>

The only ones that remained were the Uniforms on night shift, Captain Beckett and her husband.

All of the desks had been pushed back to their original place. The sun had set long ago – the rare twinkling of stars and bright moon reflected off of the hardwood floor. Most of the lights were turned off except those that ran on generators. A lone woman stood in the office she had called hers for fifteen years – and she smiled softly.

The awards had been taken down off of the walls, leaving stained squares in their wake. The pictures of her children and grandchildren were safely packed away, leaving the desk cold and bare. The bookshelves remained with procedural books and other police files but lacked a certain taste in literature that only she had brought over the years.

She breathed in the cherry-scent she seemed to leave in the places she spent the most time in. She felt two hands snake around her waist and a chin rest gently on her shoulder. She leaned her head down to the full head of white hair that belonged to her husband.

"How are you?" he asked, kissing the top of her collared shirt.

She sighed and leaned against him. "Tired," she replied honestly. She paused, set her face in stone. For a second, they breathed against each other. Then, she mumbled, "Scared. Sad. Relieved. Excited." She laughed and she could feel his chest hum against her back as he chuckled. "Too many emotions, Castle."

He untangled one of his arms and brushed her hair across the shoulder he wasn't resting his head on. He kissed her neck, right below her ear and she shivered. Even after so many years, he still had that way about him…

"It's okay to feel that way," he whispered against her skin. "It's scary. Retiring. Especially if you never thought you would."

She chuckled, despite the seriousness undertone in his mild joke.

Slowly, he spun her around so her back was to the office, her face to her future. "We'll get through it, Kate," he told her, determination lacing every word. And love. Always, love. She watched him smirk. "Who can deny living by the ocean?"

She threw her head back and laughed; it chimed its way throughout the Precinct but she didn't care. She and Castle had become openly affectionate when she made captain. Now that she couldn't necessarily get in trouble, she didn't mind when he would stop by and give her coffee, or kissed her before he left for a booking signing, or ate dinner with her in her office with the door _closed_.

"I certainly can't," she smiled and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Let's go. Don't want you to fall asleep at the wheel, old man."

Rick laid a hand to his chest, faking a chest wound. "Katherine Beckett, I never," he gasped. "Since when is 73, old?"

She rolled her eyes. "Since, _forever_."

"Hey." He pouted.

She smiled and kissed his nose, slipping her hand in his. "Come on, Rick. Let's go _home_."

The pout was quickly morphed itself into a grin. He squeezed her hand they slowly walked to the elevator, out of the Twelfth Precinct for the very last time. Kate reached for the button and pushed it gingerly, feeling her emotions stretch in all different places, like melting Play-Doe through sticky hands.

Rick pulled her in and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, planting a soft kiss to her temple. She closed her eyes, slipping a hand under his jacket and around his waist. "I love you," he whispered.

She looked up at him. The laugh-lines and bags under his eyes were well defined in his old age. His hair had turned from rich brown to white in the past twenty years but he never lost a single one; no sign of balding for Rick Castle. He was pudgy because he did not work out as often as he should have and always opted for dessert. He was such an old man, from his eating to his TV preferences to his clothing. But, through it all, his eyes remained exactly the same – dazzling blue, able to take away any fear or pain with just a simple look.

"I love you too, Rick," she whispered as the elevator doors slid open.

In step, they both walked inside, turning around to stare out at the nearly empty precinct, barely lit. This place had been home to both of them for longer than any other place had been. It was so hard to say goodbye. But, it was time, Kate reasoned. To say goodbye. It was time to start a new life – a life of swimming and cooking and writing and gardening.

God, she was going to become such an old lady.

But that wouldn't be such a bad thing, would it?

She glanced up at her husband, who was watching the numbers of the elevator panel tick down slowly to the parking garage. She smiled. No, she thought, it wouldn't be bad at all.

Being a cop, Kate Beckett thought she'd take a bullet. But perhaps retirement in the Hamptons with Rick Castle was the better ending after all.

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><p><strong>A.N.<strong>

**I wanted to dedicate this Oneshot to my amazing friend, Juliette. You're such a HUGE inspiration and I'm so glad that you so happened to stumble upon my stories one day. Love you, darling! ;)  
><strong>**I hope anyone who read, enjoyed this story! It was fun to write.**

**Until next time,  
><strong>**Lizzy**


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